So I didn’t do a whole frackin’ lot in July, except for uploading a year-old video of my one-man show. But with the bitter August wind comes the tender trellisses of the sinister dexterities of new gigs.

(This is why people tell me I’m not a real poet.)

First of all, I just got offered two parts, a last-minute replacement, in the Frolick theatre company’s ongoing production of Adventures in Slumberland on Centre Island. It’s based on the classic Little Nemo comic by Winsor McCay. It’s a family show, and if you have little people in your household, it’s a perfect outing for them.

(EDIT: I’m going to be doing Adventures in Slumberland from now until September 3. Shows run every day, usually hourly from 11:15 to about 7:00, weather permitting. For the most part, I’ll be in the later-afternoon shows, as part of the “B” cast.)

I’m playing Flip and King Morpheus. Why, I even get to sing a song. It’s only my second* paying acting gig, and I didn’t even have to audition for it. They didn’t even need a head shot. Sometimes it just helps when somebody knows you.

Then, on the following weekend, Plasticine Poetry Series is welcoming me back to feature for a fourth time. Hosted by the sexy and saucy Cathy Petch, the show will also include the literary talents of Duncan Armstrong, Heather Wood and Carolyn Smart.

You should go to that one, because they now do the series at Pauper’s Pub, and Pauper’s Pub has Keith’s cider. Which is great muhfuggin cider. Actually, I think they just have it as a temporary replacement for Magner’s, which is also pretty good. Anyway, come for the cider and stay for the performances. There’s an open mic, too.

And on the following Sunday, it’s Caplansky’s time again. I tell stories. Perhaps I may even tell one in spoken-word form.

In the meantime… read my Digital Journal stories. Now. As in, these ones.

Toodles.

* Unless you count Grouch on a Couch. But I don’t, because I spent far more money doing that show than I earned from it. And unless you count the work I used to do as a movie extra, but come on, that’s hardly acting.